


Symptoms Include

by Eggsplainaway



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, Established Relationship, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia, Sickfic, You're Welcome, absolutely no exposition or context, garak's out of character but there's a reason okay, just sickfic out of nowhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsplainaway/pseuds/Eggsplainaway
Summary: Julian comes home early from a conference because his kid and his husband got sick in his absence. He finds Garak somewhat worse for wear and disturbingly emotionally compromised.or: excessively self-indulgent h/c with a side of angst and a lot of warm squishy feelings.





	Symptoms Include

Julian took two steps into his dark living room when something slammed into his stomach like a bag of sand. He flew backwards, his back hitting the wall with a snare drum's hollow thud and forcing the air from his lungs. His heels slid and slipped against the floor, fumbling for leverage, trying to keep himself in some kind of defensible position. He tried to yell, but it came out a winded huff. His attacker now had Julian around the middle, but at his vocalization they stopped trying to pull him to the floor.

“Julian?” Garak said breathlessly from somewhere near Julian’s waist. Julian felt the arms around his middle release, felt the weight against him pull back, and a moment later heard Garak hit the floor, hard. Julian dropped himself down in a few jerky movements and then pushed onto all-fours. Blindly fumbling and still struggling for breath, he crawled forward and reached to light the lamp on the sofa end table. Low yellow light fell over the living-room landing, revealing Garak on his back in front of Julian. He was propped up on his elbows and wearing rumpled pants and a tunic, looking like he’d either slept in his clothes or fought in them. Julian supposed it could qualify as both, now. Garak’s eyes were a wild, glassy black, the pupils dilated from the dark. The expression on his face was abjectly horrified.

“I’m alright!” Julian whispered emphatically, holding his arms out to Garak like he was a frightened animal. “I’m not hurt!”

Garak opened and closed his mouth. “I--I thought someone was breaking in.”

“It’s just me, I came back early,” Julian said hurriedly. “Are you alright? You went down rather hard."

Garak ignored his question. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me you were coming back early?” he hissed fiercely.

“I thought you’d be asleep,”

“I could have killed you,” Garak growled.

“Give me a bit of credit.” Julian said with a forced chuckle. “Can you take a deep breath?”

But Garak was not listening. He had dropped his face into his hands, and he was breathing very much too quickly.

Julian slid forward on his knees, and put a hand firmly on Garak’s shoulder.

“Garak-- you’re hyperventilating. You need to take a deep breath.” Julian tried to produce a calm but forceful physician’s tone, but it was coming out more panicked husband.

Garak was not calming down. Julian knew he only had a few moments to prevent this from veering into a full-fledged panic attack, something Garak had not had since their first month on Cardassia, years ago. But he felt like he’d been thrown out of bed into a well filled with icy water, he was scrambling for purchase, he had no control, no foothold--

“Bapa?”

Julian looked up to see Mila standing in the threshold to the hall, the hem of her nightdress dragging limply over her bare feet, face pale and eyes wide, looking about as small and confused as he felt.

“Go back to bed sweetheart,” Julian told his daughter, just as he heard Garak struggle a full breath into his lungs and then begin to cough horribly. He was bracing himself against the floor in front of him with both hands. The coughing was awful, straining and sick, but at least he was managing to draw in breaths between them.

“Yadik...?” Mila hesitated, then took one step nearer.

“He will be alright, but you need to go back to bed, right now,” Julian said. He had always been awful at being stern. It made him feel like a teenager trying to buy beer.

The little girl saw through him and her resolve hardened all at once.

“Not until Yadik is okay!” she nearly shouted.

“I’m alright,” Garak forced out, voice shattered, barely more than a whisper, and swiftly fell back into coughing.

“He needs water,” Mila said seriously, and turned on her heel and ran back to her bedroom. Julian silently agreed that water wouldn’t hurt, but even with the help of the couch arm his legs were like jelly and he fumbled to stand for a few impotent seconds before crumpling back into a kneeling position in front of Garak’s bent form, whispering a curse under his breath and feeling ridiculous.

Mila reemerged from the hallway holding a covered cup with a straw in it. She walked up to Garak and held out the cup, waiting for a break in his coughing.

“Here Yadik,” she said. “Drink.”

Julian watched with amazement as Garak took the cup with an almost-steady hand and rested it against his knee as he turned away to cough over his elbow, then obediently drank from the straw.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. “Now, if you go to bed right now, I will forget that you--” he broke off to cough again. “I will forget that you twice ignored your father’s instruction.”

Even with his voice shot, tears in his eyes, and holding a sippy cup, Garak had more authority than Julian did when shouting at the top of his lungs.

Mila sighed and nodded. “Will you come say goodnight?”

“Would it be alright if I do?” Julian asked. “I’ve missed you.”

Mila nodded, and she hugged Julian around the neck. He squeezed her little shoulders back, feeling the moment of uncomplicated emotion like his first full breath of air. She drew back and immediately went to hug Garak in the same manner. He stiffened slightly, but allowed it, holding back a cough just long enough for the little girl to pull away. Mila frowned at Garak.

“I will take care of Yadik, sweetheart. I promise.” Julian said quietly. “And I’ll be in to talk to you in just a few minutes.”

Mila nodded, turned, and went dutifully back to her room. She’d left behind the cup of water. There was no point in concern about contamination now, since Garak was obviously suffering from the same bug Mila was getting over.

Garak took it and drank again. He set it down and took a few consecutive breaths without the interruption of a cough, but his head was still down, face in shadow.

“I'm still not used to being rescued by a five-year-old.” Julian said, trying to break the quiet tension.

“Yes, it’s--” Garak began, then suddenly stopped with a small choking sound, and Julian expected to hear another coughing fit, but instead Garak put a hand over his mouth and choked on a sob.

“Oh, Elim,” Julian couldn’t help sounding alarmed. “Are you in pain?” he asked, leaning forward to see more of Garak’s face.

Garak said nothing but he shook his head “no,” and that was enough for Julian. Garak’s body was as tense as a rock, but Julian pulled him close, almost tugging, putting one hand behind his neck and the other arm over his shoulders, letting him keep his face hidden in Julian’s chest, the top of his head resting against Julian’s collarbone. Garak’s breath was held and his muscles were shaking, but his hands quickly fisted in Julian’s shirt, so hard the fabric dug into Julian’s neck.

This close Julian could feel the fever coming off Garak in palpable waves. Garak sucked in a breath, pressed down a sob, and then released the breath, shuddering from the effort. This repeated until his breath caught on a cough and he pulled away.

Julian let him go, catching sight of a box of tissues on the table in front of the couch and reaching to pull out a few, looking for some way to be helpful. Julian scooted back up close to Garak’s huddled form and touched the tissues to the back of Garak’s hand, which was still clamped over his mouth. Garak took them but did little but held them to his face for a few breathes. Then he clenched them in his fist and brought it down hard against the floor.

“ _Please_ don’t hurt yourself.” Julian covered Garak’s fist on the floor with one of his hands. “It’s alright to be upset.”

Garak’s breath hissed out through his teeth. “Don’t placate me, I’m not a child.”

Julian’s heart sank. No one had ever placated Garak when he _was_ a child, and he’d learned to cope by denying himself any kind of comfort in moments of high emotion. He ignored the emotion or shouldered through it, to prove that he didn’t need what nobody would offer.

“Give me-- a moment.” Garak ground out.

“Of course.” Julian sat back and raised his hands slightly, not a full surrender, but a sign he wasn’t going to push Elim’s boundaries while he was trying to get himself together.

It was very rare that Elim got visibly upset, usually he played emotion off in any of a hundred different directions: dismissive, scolding, playful, arch, or smug in his infuriating, charming way. But this, whatever it was, had gotten away from him.

Julian bit the flesh on the inside of his lip and waited.

After a minute Garak was starting to breathe better, managing close to full breaths in and out through his mouth (Julian suspected he couldn’t breathe through his nose at all, the combination of the brief tears and illness). Julian decided he ought to do something so he wasn’t just staring. He got up and hung up his coat, grabbed his bag and walked it to their room where he dropped it on the bed, and returned to the living room with his medkit slung across his shoulder.

Garak was still crumpled on the floor but his posture had loosened up. Now he was resting his forehead and his wrist on one bent knee. He looked wilted, wrung out. Julian proceeded to discreetly scan him before an objection could be lodged.

His fever was quite high, his breathing marginally impaired, his blood sugar low and his pulse and blood pressure a little high. He was significantly dehydrated. Julian started to put together a plan in his head, a list of hypos he had on hand, what he ought to be watching out for. He pulled a throw off of the couch and approached Garak.

“I’m laying a blanket over your shoulders,” He said quietly, then waited a beat before he did so. Garak glanced at him distractedly but didn’t resist as Julian tenderly placed the blanket around him with a lingering touch.

“Thank you, my dear,” Garak said quietly. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive.”

Garak gave a weak, derisive chuckle. He shook visibly and pulled the blanket closer around his neck.

“I would like to get you up off the floor.” Julian said softly. “Can I have your hands?”

Garak obliged him without meeting his eyes and Julian helped him to his wobbly feet. Once standing, Julian hugged him, pulling in a breath through the hair at the nape of his neck. He felt Garak stiffen for a moment, and then exhale and relax, arms shakily tightening around Julian.

“I missed you.” Julian said quietly.

Julian walked Garak back to their bedroom and got him into bed. He got him his own, grown-up glass of water, a few handkerchiefs, and pulled extra pillows out of the linen closet and arranged them so Garak was sitting up. Garak muttered something about “fussy... controlling…” etc. that Julian had no trouble rewarding with nothing but a kiss to his hot forehead.

Julian perched himself on the edge of the bed and set his medkit beside him. Garak was still avoiding eye contact.

“Alright?” Julian asked quietly, reaching a hand to pet a few strands of hair back into place.

Garak nodded without looking up. “I ought to be asking you,” he said softly.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

Garak moved a hand to cover his eyes and whispered, filled with a heat Julian knew was not directed at him, “I attacked you,”

“You didn’t realize it was me,” Julian said.

“Well _obviously_ ,” Garak snapped, “That’s no excuse.”

“You’re looking for an excuse? How about: you’re ill and exhausted?” Julian supplied. “Your temperature is through the roof. Your whole body is ringing alarm bells at the moment, it’s no surprise you reacted the way you did.”

“I suppose it’s your fault for _not_ expecting to be attacked upon entering your own home,” Garak said, and Julian savored the returning hint of humor.

“I should have warned you I was coming home early,” Julian said. “I hoped you’d be asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“The trip back is fourteen hours long. You didn't tell me earlier because you knew I’d talk you out of it. You--” Garak broke off with a few high stuttering breaths and twisted away from Julian to sneeze wretchedly against a bent elbow. “God. Excuse me.”

“Bless you. I knew you’d try.” Julian said lightly, sliding easily into professional practice. “So, coughing, sneezing, fever. What else?”

“Emotional liability,” Garak muttered.

“That’s the fever, darling,” Julian said gently.

“Now there's an excuse I'll accept.”

Julian smiled. "You don't need an excuse. Sore throat?”

“Hm? Oh, yes.”

“Headache?”

Garak nodded.

“Any pain in your ears? Dizziness?”

“No.”

“How about your chest?”

Garak didn’t speak or nod.

“And I suppose it would be foolish to ask if you’d been to the clinic?” Julian couldn’t help the frustration creeping into his voice.

“It would be a waste of time and of resources to be treated by the urgent care clinic.”

“The flu may not be emergent, but it is serious, Elim. It’s exactly the kind of thing the clinic is for. And, frankly, the fact that you’ve done absolutely nothing to--”

Garak took a sharp breath and held back a quick flurry of sneezes with a suppressing shudder and a soft sigh. It sounded painful, and even in the low light of the bedside lamp Julian could see a dusky embarrassed flush on his neck.

“Bless you. Here,” Julian offered one of the handkerchiefs. Garak avoided eye contact, looking a bit fragile. His brain had to be knocking unpleasantly against his skull. Julian wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing stars.

Julian decided now was not the best time to harangue him about not getting proper medical care.

Garak mopped his face tiredly, finally glancing up to meet Julian’s eyes with exhausted embarrassment. “I apologize--”

“Hush. You must feel awful.”

“I--have certainly felt better.” Garak admitted grudgingly. “All the same, please excuse me.”

“It’s me who should be apologizing, I should have come home much earlier, as soon as you told me Mila was sick. I shouldn’t have let you deal with that alone.” Julian was searching for Garak’s eyes, but he was avoiding Julian’s again, and he was unusually quiet. Julian sighed and stood up, but kissed Garak’s head again before saying he’d be right back. He returned a minute later with a meal replacement bar.

Garak livened up when he saw it, and not in a good way. He waved his hand at the meal bar. “I can’t possibly eat that.”

“You will eat at least half of it, so I can give you an assortment of hypos to help you sleep and not get a chest infection.” Julian said, perhaps a little sharply, because there was no further argument beyond a smokey scowl to signify Garak’s displeasure as he chewed.

When he was done, Julian was beside him on the bed, with hypos loaded. He gave Garak a combination antipyretic/antihistamine/cough suppressant, and an antibiotic.

“Sorry for making you my pincushion. You should start to feel better soon.” Julian stroked his hair and kissed him on the ear. He couldn’t tell if the heat was receding yet or not. Garak was shivering less, under the comforter and with Julian’s arm around him. Julian reached his other arm around Garak’s chest, so he was encircled in an awkward embrace. After a few moments, Garak exhaled and relaxed, leaning his head on Julian’s shoulder.

“I am terribly sorry,” Garak said into the quiet.

"What for?”

“For assaulting you.”

Julian sighed. They shouldn’t do this now; Garak’s fever still wasn’t down, and the last thing he needed was another crying jag. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I was out of my mind… I'm sure it was frightening.”

“You surprised me.” Julian said carefully.

“You were afraid.”

Julian pulled away a little to see Garak’s face. His eyes were slightly shiny, a bit more than just the fever could excuse. Julian pet his hair. Lying to calm Garak down would only make things worse. Anyway, he didn’t need to lie. The truth was what Garak needed to hear.

“When I wasn’t sure it was you, I was scared. And for a moment I was afraid you might be too feverish to realize it was me,” Julian said. “But that didn’t happen. You were you, and I was me.”

“You weren’t afraid for the child?”

Julian frowned, confused. “It didn’t occur to me to be, no,” he said after a moment.

“You snapped at her.”

Julian wasn't sure he was following. This was not an anticipated line of inquiry. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed just at that moment. I didn’t want to add her panic into the bargain,” _I didn’t want her to see her parents falling apart,_ he thought. _  
_

“You didn’t come back here because you were worried about her?”

“Well, of course, somewhat. But you said she was doing better.”

“So she is. And yet here you are.”

Ah, there it was. “Garak, every time we talked, Mila seemed better, and you seemed worse. I was worried that you would put all of your energy into taking care of her and neglect yourself. Which appears to be exactly what has happened. Why else would-- What do you think I came back early for, if not to help you?” Garak said nothing and something occurred to Julian. “I never thought you would put her in danger. Please believe that. I knew you’d get help before you ever got too sick to take care of her.”

“No, not in danger, but you didn’t worry that I might… take out my discomfort on the nearest target?”

“On the _baby_?" Julian said incredulously. Mila may be almost six, but was and would probably always be the baby to Julian. And she was still too young to really protest it, so. "No! I can honestly say I never for a moment worried you would be cruel to Mila.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you had, you know. Considering the past…”

“Not for a _moment_ , Elim.”

“Hm.”

Julian sighed. “You don’t lash out at people who need your help. It’s the people trying to help you who get the claws.”

That surprised a chuckle out of Garak. “Well, then I suppose today has gone true to form.”

Julian gestured to himself. “Do you see any wounds?”

“You’ll have some bruises on your back come morning--” He leaned away to cough towards his elbow.

“And I’ll still be in better shape than you, darling.” Julian waited a beat before putting a hand on Garak’s shoulder. “I’ve still got two days of leave, and so do you. If you put your mind to it, you might be well enough to return to work in four.”

“Four _days_?” Garak sputtered.

“If you really apply yourself.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“I will send medical notice to your office.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” Julian met his husband’s watery, red stare and felt the balance of power waver.

Garak sighed and covered a weak cough.

“Fine. I will send a message in the morning.”

Julian inclined his head, a gentle imitation of Garak’s body language. “You’ve the thanks of a grateful nation. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to help you the entire time.”

“Oh joy.”

Julian grinned. “How are you feeling now?”

Garak looked considerably more comfortable, sleep lapping at him in the wake of pain.

“Tired. But better, thank you.”

“Good. Then I think you should sleep. And don’t worry about Mila, I’m going to say goodnight to her as soon as you’re snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

Julian pulled the blankets up almost to his chin and kissed his forehead, petting his hair rhythmically as he closed his eyes.

“Yes you do.” He whispered after a few minutes. Julian could tell Garak was asleep by the fact there was no rebuttal.

 

end


End file.
